


Evergreen

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awesome Molly, Awesome Mrs. Hudson, Evergreen Sword, John is a Strong Mage, M/M, Saving the World, Sherlock is enchanted, The Mother Tree, The Woman makes an appearance, magical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-02-23 08:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13186566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: Sherlock is enchanted. He is also supposed to be the one that legend intimates will pull the Evergreen Sword from the Mother Tree. He is skeptical of this situation. John of the Watson clan is a powerful Mage who has been sent to help Sherlock. The Magpie Mage is determined to have the Evergreen sword for his own purposes. Even if he has be kill Sherlock to do that.





	1. Where does the long road end?

“The sword is all. Is everything.” The voice of Mycroft whispers. His long dead brother still haunts Sherlock.

“I care not about swords, kingdoms or power.” Sherlock murmurs to the walls of his room. “Martine, prepare my horse.”

His assistant of many years, protector and friend enters his room. 

“Yes, mi’ lord.” The young woman speaks as she moves quickly to do her lords bidding.

(-_-)

Within a span of time, Sherlock arrives at the stables. Truth, his Belgian black, stands at the ready. Martine has saddled her mount as well. 

“I need no accompaniment.” Sherlock takes the reins, mounting his horse in a smooth swing of his body. 

“Sir, no one should ride to the Mother alone. If you will not take guards, then you must settle with me.”

Martine has trained as a martial artist since she was seven. Her skill sets will deter any physical attacks.

“If you must.”

Mounting her bay, she comes along side her charge. They move out of the keep through the back, hidden gate that only they know of.

The forest is shrouded in a misty fog so dense and moist that the ancient trees gather all their water needs from it. They are bound for the Mother Tree. 

“Where does the long road end?” Mrs. Hudson’s voice enters Sherlock’s head and he welcomes her soothing tones. 

“Mi lady, I know not where the long road ends. I only know that I have lost much. I seek less and less over the days and years.” Though the voice of Mrs. Hudson is all he hears, he knows her spirit accompanies him.

(-_-)

Sherrinford stands next to his younger brother, Mycroft. “We’re not dead.” His voice trembles with anger.

“To him we are.” Mycroft admits.

(-_-)

From the East a radiant light appears. The ethereal light is the good witch Molly. She who cares for and keeps the organic world. The two riders draw up their mounts, bow in greeting, acknowledging her presence.

“Sherlock, you travel to the Mother Tree. May I accompany you?” 

His smile is ever so sad. “It seems I have little choice in such matters. I do not desire conversation.” 

“You have attracted Mrs. Hudson’s spirit. So I know you are not in a fair mood today.” Molly is content to float in the same direction as they are riding.

Sherlock begins to sing, a low, soft murmuration: the harmonics of which are quite pleasing. His rich baritone is hypnotic in its delivery.

After hours of riding, they come to the Mother of all Trees. The Evergreen.

“Sherlock, dear, you must take the sword now.” Mrs. Hudson’s voice reverberates in his mind.

“I have tried again and again: to no avail. What makes today different?”

“Who do you speak to?” A man’s tenor voice breaks Sherlock’s concentration. 

A soldier back from the wars stands on one of the many paths that lead to the Mother. He leans upon a walking staff, but more from weariness than need. Sherlock scans the stranger in totality. He is not a threat, at least not now. 

His face is care worn, his slightly shorter stature belies a man of great strength, both physical and mental. His deep, dark blue eyes are hard and soft at the same time. A contradiction. Strength and vulnerability coexisting in a very uncommon man.

Martine dismounts, coming between the stranger and Sherlock. The stranger strides forward as Martine goes to meet him.

The stranger continues his forward motion. 

“No, Martine!” Sherlock shouts as the stranger walks right through her. She disappears along with her horse.

“Where does the long road end.” Mrs. Hudson whispers into Sherlock’s Mind Palace.

Molly watches. She can no longer be seen by the two men. Mrs. Hudson draws close to her and gives her a motherly hug. 

“You are protected on many levels.” The strangers states.

Sherlock looks stunned at the twisting of events.

“What happened to Martine?” Sherlock dismounts, dropping his horse’s reigns, he turns three hundred – sixty degrees, scanning the area.

“There is only you and I here. My name is John. I am from the Watson clan. You were going to visit the Mother?” John Watson extends his hand in friendship.

Sherlock strides forward to shake his hand.

“You are a strong mage, John of the Watson clan.”

John smiles. A smile that crinkles the corners of his mouth and blazes his eyes.

“You are deeply enchanted, my friend. What is your name?”

Oddly, Sherlock finds the use of the word friend gives him much solace. 

“I am Sherlock Holmes. Destined to draw the Evergreen Sword from the Mother.”

The hand shake has gone on for a very long time. Sherlock finds he does not want to let go of John.

“Who has enchanted me, John?”

“The Magpie Mage. Some call him the Dark Eyed Demon.”

Sherlock trembles at the name. 

John draws Sherlock into a comfortable hug. Though Sherlock is much taller than John, the coming together is natural. Fitting together as if made for each other. A deja vu feeling infuses both men with strong feelings of camaraderie. John thumps Sherlock’s back enthusiastically. Smiling up into his face.

“What happens now?”

“We brake these enchantments, go after Moriarty. We find the bastard and we destroy that black pit that he calls a heart.” John’s confidence is palpable. 

Sherlock nods and slowly lets go of John. John draws his hand across Sherlock’s eyes. Beautiful eyes that can now see reality. They are in the forest, but it is not where Sherlock thought he was.

“Where are we John? This is not where the Mother Tree resides.”

“You’ve been wandering far afield, Sherlock. Your life has been taken from you. Your friends and family have been removed to dishearten you.”

“Are you telling me that they are all still alive?”

“Your life has been shattered. He thought by taking everything you knew and loved; that he would take away your will to persevere.”

“I’m glad that you came along John.”

“As you are destined to hold the Evergreen. My destiny is to help you accomplish that goal. I’ve come a long way to stand by your side. To protect you in your quest and defeat Moriarty.”

“Who sent you here, John? Who should I thank?”

“She wants to remain anonymous at this time. Her name will be revealed in the fullness of time.”

“How inscrutable of her. Can you tell me if she knows of Moriarty or is any way an old associate?”

“Yes and yes.” John gives an awkward smile. Looking up from under his thick blonde eye lashes. He is aware that Sherlock may know exactly who sent him.

“I think we should go back to the keep and procure you a suitable horse before we travel.” Looking up, he sees the on coming evening sky, Sherlock knows that they will have to wait for the morning light to again travel to the Evergreen.

Sherlock mounts Truth and extends his hand to John. John takes the proffered hand, steps into the empty stirrup, swinging up to a place behind Sherlock on the back of the huge Belgian black. Sherlock notes that Truth is very amenable to the extra weight and gives no indication that he finds John in any way worrisome. He takes great note of this, Truth does not suffer fools lightly nor allow malicious men to rest easily upon his back. 

(-_-)

Sherrinford watches from a seeing stone as Sherlock and John begin to interact. “This is quite encouraging, Mycroft. Sherlock is accepting of John. And I’ve been assured that John Watson is an unmatched mage, whose powers are capable of overcoming Moriarty.”

“One must not count one’s poultry before one’s embryos have demolished their casing.” Mycroft states dryly.

Sherrinford can not help but wonder at his younger brothers attempts at humor. Surely, the fact that Sherlock is now protected by a worthy mage is a terribly good sign.

(-_-)

Coming into the keep, John dismounts. Sherlock does too, then hands Truths reins over to a page. 

“Feed him well.” Sherlock commands. “He has a long journey ahead of him tomorrow.”

Sherlock escorts John up to quarters which are adjacent to his. Housekeeping is called and the space is made warm and cozy.

A bath is drawn for John and he is eager to enjoy the pleasures of hot bath. Refreshed, he dresses in clean clothes. Coming into Sherlock quarters for a shared meal. 

“I have been on the road for some time. My horse was lamed when she threw a shoe and injured her hoof. I had to stable her in the town not far away.”

“Dawan, I know of the town. I will have someone fetch the animal, so that she can be cared for here.”

“I’d appreciate that. You are most kind.”

The simple meal that Sherlock has provided is much welcome by John. He does notice that the very slender Sherlock merely pushes his food around his plate.

“Your appetite seems to lack enthusiasm?”

“I’ve never been someone who finds pleasure in consumption.”

“Hum. I think I can cure that. I’ll be right back.” John retires to his room, digs into his back pack and pulls forth a container. Bringing the container to Sherlock. Calling for a tea pot, he shakes a bit of herbs into the hot water.

“What herb is this?”

“Dandelion. Very helpful in stimulating appetite and bile flow, plus liver function.”

“It’s a weed isn’t it?”

“They are flowers too, once you get to know them.” 

The tea having steeped, John pours two cups adds a bit of honey and stirs them both. Sherlock takes up his cup and sips the hot liquid.

“That does have a slightly bitter taste.”

“It has a bit of a tang, but it grows on you.”

“So, John. You’ve come to help me draw the Evergreen sword from the Mother. You know this has never been done. Those that have tried are all dead now.”

“It is said that there will be one who will pull the sword from the tree. That the world will be greatly altered. For the good.”

“Ah yes, being the legendary savior of the world is quite a situation to be in. I don’t know that I’m up for the whole save the world thing.”

That being said, Sherlock lifts a fork full of food and bites into it. Then another bite.

“Your weed seems to be working.”

“It usually takes a while to take effect.” John’s smile is infectious.

“Maybe its the company I keep.” Sherlock gives the tiniest smile his luscious lips can manage.

“Mi Lord.” The captain of the guard intrudes holding a rolled parchment. “The Magpie Mage sends a message to you.


	2. What Magic is This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets Greg. Moriarty meets John. Magic ensues and love is on the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this tickles your fancy, dear readers. Twisty, turn-y and laced with love.

Sherlock reads the parchment. “It’s another ultimatum from Moriarty. He never ceases to un – amaze me.” Sherlock throws the parchment on the table. “Greg, this is John of the Watson clan. John, this is Greg Lestrade, my captain of the guards.” With that introduction, Sherlock walks into his inner rooms. 

John moves to greet the man at the door. “I’ve been sent to protect Sherlock on his journey to the Mother Tree.” 

“Nice to meet you John of the Watson Clan.” Greg looks intensely at this mage. Of course he’s a mage. “Who sends a top tier mage to this chaotic part of the Mystic Woods?”

“The Woman sent me, though she’s not keen for Sherlock to know.” 

“The Woman.” Greg gives a small whistle. “She’s not usually one to enter into local intrigues.”

“I believe she’s looking at the long term advantages if the Evergreen is removed from the Mother.”

“You know its said that only the one who pulls the sword will be able to wield it.”

“I’m really not here to take possession of the sword. Once its been pulled from the Mother. I’ll be on my way.” John’s demeanor and honest-to-goodness attitude convince Greg to trust his gut that this man is a good one.

“Sherlock’s not been himself for a very long time. The Demon cursed him. Slowly took his mind from him. All the people in his life, those who knew and loved him, the Demon has taken them too. We’ve tried to keep him safe, but delusions haunt him. He’s the only one who knows where the Mother Tree is. He’s known from the time he could talk.”

“Other people have tried to trick him into revealing the whereabouts of the Tree?”

“Yeah, there have been all kinds of charlatans and shady characters sniffing around.”

“I was told he had a striking visage, but there is a definite alien beauty to him.”

“We’re all used to his strangeness. But to outsiders; I’m guessing he can be a heart breaker. And, no, he’s not aligned to anyone here or anywhere. He’s always been a loner, of sorts, all his life.”

“In what way?”

“Puzzles, riddles and mysteries were always his cup of tea. Watch yourself, though. Lots of blokes and dames have tried to tame that heart. They all came away tattered and torn. His tongue is as sharp as a butchers blade.”

“I hadn’t notice that in him.” John quirks an eye brow in doubt. 

“That is strange. I’ve never known him to have kind words for outsiders.”

“John, I have some maps you should look at. Greg can you have a page get me some tea and then get in here. We’ll need your input for the coming journey.” Sherlock goes back into his rooms. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. You have definitely tamed the Sherlock beast.” Greg goes to the door and sends a page to the kitchen to get tea for Sherlock and some mead for John and himself.

(-_-)

“So, My, it looks like this John person has more than just magical abilities. I’ve never seen anyone become a confidant so quickly.” Sherrinford looks into Sherlock’s rooms via the seeing stone.

“But The Woman, ‘Ford. You know she always has ulterior motives. Most of which are all to her benefit. This Watson bloke seems okay now, but once the sword is pulled from the Evergreen, what then?”

Mrs. Hudson comes to view through the stone along side her ‘boys’. “John.” She says the name reverently. “Our hopes go with you, my dear. Keep our Sherlock safe.”

Ford places an arm around her slender shoulders and brings her into an affectionate hug. My, likewise, hugs her from the opposite side.

“He’s been fighting hard so far, Hudders. A lesser man would have succumbed to the Demon long ago.”

(-_-)

Sherrinford, called Ford by family and friends, is the oldest, wisest and most comely of the Holmes brothers and is the first taken away and imprisoned in a magical place of Moriarty’s making.

The seeing stone allows those imprisoned to view Sherlock, but not to interact with him. At least that had been what the demon had planned.

Ford, a powerful wizard in his own right, used the stone to his advantage. Along with Mycroft and Molly; they cause a bleed through of thoughts, sounds and images. Originally, they all tried to speak to Sherlock, to tell him that they were alive, but he could not hear the truth at all. He heard their voices as ghosts of the past come to haunt him.

My and Ford knew from Sherlock’s birth that he was different. Magics didn’t interest him. He called himself a scientist. More interested in the mysteries of the real world than the magnificence of magic. 

(-_-)

Hudders walks the halls of Sherlock’s Mind Palace. He finds peace and comfort from her presence. As she had been the only mother he had ever known. His parents had both expired in a tragic accident when he could barely sit up on Hudder’s lap. Mrs. Hudson had been teacher and nanny to the young Holmes boys. She had taken over full care of Sherlock immediately. No one questioning that she is the best person for that position. She had been everything he’d needed. Being the glue that held the Holmes family together after their great loss.

Mrs. Hudson, a woman with a mysterious past and ability to know exactly what Sherlock needed. Her disappointment is her strongest administered social control over him. Her praise is always sought out and she gave it willingly and often. 

My and Ford were happy that she had been there to see them through the passage of their parents and to help their young, strange sibling grow to his even stranger manhood.

(-_-)

One of the inner rooms had become a map room to all intents and purposes. Tables spread with large and small maps. John and Greg looked on, drinking their mead, as Sherlock tracked his long elegant fingers through the cartographers signs and symbols. Talking non-stop he told them about the journey that needed to happen to get to the Mother.

“Does he always speak like a fox chasing the hare?” John is suppressing a smirk as he leans against an adjacent table.

“This is one of his better days.” Greg takes another swig of his mead. He is perched against the same table.

“Are either of you paying attention at all to my...” Sherlock stops mid sentence as he looks straight through John and Greg. He is actually looking at the image that stands behind them.

“Sherrinford.” Sherlock breathes. Moving forward he extends his hand to his eldest brother, a startled look upon his face.

Knowing that Sherlock can read his lips Sherrinford mouths the words. {“I’m not a hallucination. I’m real. I’m watching, little brother mine.”}

The image fades and Sherlock bites his lower lip. Eyes shining with unshed tears. His legs grow weak and they fail to hold him up. John is right there, grabbing his torso and lowering him to the floor gently. So gently. 

“Sherlock? Sherlock? Are you okay? What the hell just happened?”

John is kneeling next to him with Greg standing over them both. 

“When you cleared my vision, you cleared more. I just saw my brother. I saw Sherrinford. He was standing just behind you and Greg.”

John smiles. His magic is not grandiose. It is potent, powerful. His eye contact with Sherlock continues for long minutes. Finally, Greg clears his throat before he drinks the last of his mead. 

“I think I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be back in the morning. Try to get some sleep. What am I saying. Sherlock never sleeps. So I’ll just wish you luck, John.” He lifts his empty glass and up ends it on to the table as he exits the room.

John helps Sherlock up. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep?”

“You did something to my eyes? I saw my brother, John, he was real.” Sherlock grabs John by his fore arms and draws him into a welcoming hug. “Thank you. Thank you.”

John returns the hug then pushes Sherlock back to view his face. They stare at each other for what seems like an eternity. John remains totally still, a warm smile slowly makes an appearance on his face. A devious pink tongue peeks out of his lips. John reminds Sherlock of a cat who anticipates eating the mouse before him.

Sherlock tilts his head as he reaches his left hand to trace the thin lips of John Watson. Between them the pulsing of two hearts begins to synchronize. John’s eyes dilate ever so slightly, as do Sherlock’s.

“What magic is this?” Sherlock draws John closer as he questions.

“Something I’ve not experienced before. This magic is precious and so exceptionally hard to find. True...”

Before John can finish his sentence, a wave of energetic magic invades the keep. The ground undulates, much as an earthquake would do. The child-like maniacal laughter that fills the keep with its malevolence is easily recognized. 

“Moriarty.” Sherlock states.

John places a protective arm around Sherlock. Using his left hand to make a warding sign in the air before them.

“Ahhhhh, I see you’ve acquired a mage to stand by your side. How interesting. But don’t get too complacent. He is no match for me.” 

“You are not aware of who you are talking to.” John states confidently. “By the wind, in the wake of the water, I cast you into the whirlwinds power.” 

A strangled fading scream echos in the halls of the keep.

Sherlock, eyes wide, takes a newer, longer look at this man at his side. The strength of untold magics emanate from his deep, dark cerulean blue eyes. 

“John?”

“I’m your man, Sherlock. If you want me. My life, my love, everything that I am.”

Sherlock shakes his head. Eyes wild and disoriented. Disentangling from John, he backs into his bedroom and closes the door. 

John stands bereft. Should he follow Sherlock? Implore him to reconsider? Explain his actions?

“John.” A young woman stands at his side. “My name is Martine.”


	3. Who goes There?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mind Palaces, ghosts, waters of soul, tentacles. Did I say tentacles?? It's getting hair and tentaclely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks dear readers for hanging with me. Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I was dealing with health issues which are clinging on.

“You’re a ghost.” John is attuned to many planes of existence. Had been all his life, so this apparition is not out of the ordinary for him. He had seen her before with Sherlock, but not wanting to reveal his talents at the time, had remained silent.

“Please be patient with Sherlock. He’s been isolated from reality for so long.”

“I understand, Moriarty attempts to wear him down. Tell me your tale. How came you to perish at such a young age?”

“My father was the personal body guard for the Holmes family. He was the first killed. I took his place to ensure the safety of the family.” 

John looks at her sincere eyes. “You stay near him even in death. You are bound by more than duty.” It is a statement not a question.

“I loved him, but he is singe spirit, looking to other males for intimacy. I respected his gender choices.”

“Before you were killed, you pledged your life to him as I just did?”

“Yes. Though the love between us was platonic, he knew in the end that I would give my life willingly to preserve his as more than just his protector.”

“I see.” John places his open palm over Martine’s forehead. “Rest easy now. Martine. I take the mantle of your service. I will protect Sherlock and his family with my life. Look to the North, your father waits for you to join him.”

The ghost of Martine turns to see her father smiling proudly at his daughters approach. She runs into his loving arms.

John follows Sherlock into his room.

Sherlock stands at the windows of his bedroom looking out at the gathering storm clouds of the evening sky.

“Martine has gone to the great beyond.”

Sherlock slowly brings himself to face John. John takes a step toward Sherlock as he steps back.

“Listen, there is something you should know John. Since you cleared my eyes, I can’t seem to function properly.”

“You’re doing fine. I know that things are changing and it is very disorienting. Know I’m here to help, you can depend on me.”

“You can’t say that, no one can say that. Everyone’s gone away. People have died.” Sherlock grabs his hair and rakes his fingers through the mass of his black curls.

John grabs his wrists. “Look at me Sherlock.”

Sherlock looks directly into John’s cerulean blue eyes. Sparks flare like distant volcanoes erupting in those eyes.

Fire burns through Sherlock. He trembles visibly. “What just happened?”

John stands steadfast and calm. Licking his thin lips, he grey/blonde hair draped about his beatific face. “I’ve cross connected the waters of our souls.”

“That’s impossible. Why would you do that anyway?”

“I do that because I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“Have you gone insane. You barely know me. We’ve only just met.” Sherlock breaks John’s hold on him and backs away.

“I know that you are strong. That you’ve resisted magics and misfortunes that would have broken lesser men. I know you are smart. You’ve outsmarted Moriarty for some time now. He’s tried again and again to trick you into revealing what you know. You are the most striking man I’ve ever had the good fortune to meet. The first time we touched I knew that there was something there. Something strong and true.”

“I felt something too.” Sherlock confesses. “How can this be?”

(-_-)

Ford and My are conversing in heated tones. 

“Are they at it again? Why don’t they give it a rest?” 

Molly sits next to Mrs. Hudson as the older woman continues to sharpen the blade of a small but deadly looking knife.

“Ah, wizards and warlocks. Nothing but debates and debacles if you ask me. They are trying to use the seeing stone to conjure a way back to Sherlock.”

“Do you think I should tell them if I add my magic to theirs, it would magnify their powers ten fold?”

Mrs. Hudson, stops her project and pats Molly’s hand comfortingly. “Now dear, that would go against their huge feelings of self worth. Wait a bit and they will come to the conclusion themselves. Men can be such flibbertigibbets.” 

Molly giggles at that truth. “This John person. It looks like he has the strength and knowledge to put an end to the stalemate that we’ve been experiencing.”

“I have high hopes, my dear. He has fallen in love hard for our dear Sherlock.” 

“I feel he’s much stronger than Moriarty, the bastard.”

“Why don’t we weave a few spells of our own, while the Holmes’s continue to blather on?”

Molly gives a beautiful smile that brightens the room. “I think now would be a great time to do that.”

(-_-)

“Ford, this isn’t going to work. There are wards in place against this type of disruption of the magics.”

“Don’t you see, John’s magic is now mixed into the very soul waters of Sherlock. Our brother is connected to one of the strongest mages I’ve ever seen. We can draw upon his strength. We can pour our magic into his. This changes everything My.”

Together the brothers begin a series of magical manipulations of their significant powers through the seeing stone into the reality where their brother resides.

(-_-)

John, having merged the waters of their souls, now has Sherlock’s trust. He is now propped against the headboard of Sherlock’s bed, laying in a mound of pillows. Sherlock lays in the cradle of John’s hips with his head against John’s chest. 

Their souls joined, John can now restore and refresh Sherlock’s physical and spiritual traumas. Eyes closed, Sherlock murmurs in his deep baritone voice, sounding strangely like a six foot tall cat purring. 

Yet, he is not idle in this moment of calm. John’s mind races to develop plans of action against Moriarty. He doesn’t doubt his abilities, but knows that Moriarty is a vile deceiver, capable of horrendous acts of violence.

(-_-)

“Magnificent, I couldn’t ask for better circumstances.” Moriarty is beside himself with glee. He has magical monitors in Sherlock’s reality and the chamber that he has sequestered Sherlock’s family and friends in. He can see that the Holmes’ brothers are getting ready to access John via Sherlock. “Now is the time to strike or better yet to slitter in.” His menacing cackle reverberates through the halls of his domain. The cold stone castle keep that is as dank, dark and decrepit as its bizarre resident.

(-_-)

“Oh, my goodness. I had no idea that you had access to Sherlock’s Mind Palace?” Molly is adequately impressed by the expansive and beautiful structure that is the inner workings of Sherlock Holmes.

“My dear, it was I who helped him in its construction and use. He was and is a person of great abilities and would have become a powerful mage, yet magic was never his first desire. Whatever he puts his mind to, he will do exceptionally well.”

Turning around in the main hall, Molly is surprised to find a new addition. “Look Mrs. H. There is a wing here with John’s name on it.

The two ladies move into the John Watson wing. It is a warm, welcoming place that is clearly under new construction. In the main rotunda is a statue of John as he was when Sherlock first met him. 

“I think that John made a strong impression upon Sherlock, even though Sherlock was not seeing clearly.” 

The statue is larger than life and beautifully rendered. One could almost say, lovingly rendered. 

“Yes, that is quite evident isn’t it.” Mrs. Hudson’s beams a smile at the statue as a darkness that emerges from a dense fog behind them begins to creep into the hallway.

“Molly!” Mrs. Hudson grabs her young friend, lifting them both up and away from whatever it is that is invading Sherlock’s Mind Palace.

“What the hell is that?” Molly, wide eyed and clearly distressed, looks back at the creeping dark, oily tendrils of some unknown entity that is slowly overtaking the Mind Palace.

“That, my dear, is the beginning of the end.” Mrs. Hudson moves them to where the Holmes’ brothers are located.”

(-_-)

Ford and My are ecstatic about their progress in accessing John. 

“It won’t be long My, before we can assist John in his attack on Moriarty.”

Molly and Mrs. Hudson rush into the room.

“Whatever you are doing stop it this instance!” Mrs. Hudson demands.

“We are linking ourselves to John via Sherlock. It is all quite safe. Sherlock is safe.”

Mrs. Hudson is not to be denied. Swiping her magic through the room, she disengages the magics that Mycroft and Sherrinford are plying.

Molly stands behind Mrs. Hudson. She looks behind her and sees the creeping black tentacles pushing its way into their room.

“Mrs. Hudson!” Molly yells at the top of her lungs. 

Mrs. Hudson and Molly move as one. Their magics unifying, slamming into the blackness, pushing it from the room and manifesting a door that can not be breached.

Molly and Mrs. Hudson hug each other in triumph as Mycroft and Sherrinford sit on their bums in complete disbelief.

(-_-)

Sherlock coughs. John is immediately on alert. Throwing up spells to ward off...then one of his wards splits and dissolves. Damn. 

Snatching Sherlock into his arms, he now takes time to thoroughly examine his young soulmate. Sherlock is cool to the touch. 

“Sherlock? Sherlock? Look at me.” 

Gazing up from under long dark lashes, Sherlock’s eyes are opaque. Their normal, dazzling multi-colors are completely gone. The flashing intelligence is gone.

“No, no, no, no.” John’s determination explodes into a fury of protection surrounding Sherlock. 

“Oh, I’m so impressed.” A voice not Sherlock’s is coming from Sherlock’s mouth. “You have such powers, John. I can call you John can’t I?” Sherlock’s body giggles in a child-like manner, this is not Sherlock.

“You bastard. I will have your head for this.”

“John. John we can find a better solution here, can’t we?” Moriarty’s presence inside Sherlock is quite obvious. Sherlock is moving in un - Sherlockian way. “Ooooh, I like this body. Maybe I will make this a long term possession.”

(-_-)

Molly, Ford, My and Mrs. Hudson stand transfixed, looking through the seeing stone at the change that has taken place. At what John will do now that his beloved Sherlock has been overthrown.

“By the Evergreen, what have we done Ford?”

“We’ve been utilized to do the worst. Moriarty slipped into soul of our beloved little brother.”

Ford clasps his hands over his face. “My brilliant idea allowed this to happen.”

“Now is not the time to find fault. Molly dear, please begin.” 

Molly stands tall, placing a spell over the group. Immediately Ford and My understand what she is doing. They stand, adding their energy to hers.

“Here we go.” Mrs. Hudson states calmly. “Hold on to anything you find precious.”


	4. His head and hand – Her head, hand, and pudenda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty possesses. John's magic is thwarted. The long road ends. The true magic is revealed. The Evergreen Sword emerges. Life is good. Female magic is better than any.

His head and hand – Her head, hand, and pudenda

John held Sherlock. This Moriarty-possessed-Sherlock now smirked and simpered, brushing himself up against John in lewd and lascivious ways.

John exhaled deeply as he shook his head, holding Moriarty/Sherlock at arms length. He uses magic to bind his possessed love. Laying him on the hard floor.

“You into this tying people up thing? I’d never have suspected.” Moriarty grimaces and giggles like an insane child. A murderously insane child.

John cast his magic to eradicate the possession. Nothing happens. Again and again, nothing happens.

“Amazing isn’t it? This body seems to be immune to your rather significant magics. I’m not going anywhere soon. So we might as well get to know each other.” Moriarty glares at John. Giving a wicked smile that cuts like broken glass.

“Moriarty, I will be removing your energy from Sherlock, so don’t get too comfortable.”

Moriarty places his magically bound hands behind his head as he luxuriates on the hard floor. “I’m all yours,” he pontificates. 

Turning away from this mystery, John is unaware why his magic can not free Sherlock from the grips of Moriarty’s possession. He’d separated possessed people from their possessors before, it wasn’t that hard to do. So why wasn’t it working?

“It is not your abilities that are at issue.” A handsome man stands to one side of Sherlock’s bedroom. Behind him another male, these are both obviously Sherlock’s siblings. Then there are two women. One older, one younger. There is no family resemblance between females and the males.

“Let me introduce myself, I’m Sherrinford Holmes, this is my brother Mycroft. Mrs. Hudson is our family progenitor and Molly Hooper is a family friend and a witch of incredible power.” 

“So Sherlock’s idea that everyone he cared had been killed is untrue?”

“We were taken from him.” Mrs. Hudson explains. “For him our loss was no less painful.” 

“Another one of Moriarty’s deceptions.” John ruminates.

“Hey, Moriarty right here.” The deceiver crows.

“We will combine our powers to overcome his control over our brother.” Mycroft offers.

“This is not Moriarty’s doing.” John looks to Sherlock’s family and friends. “I’ve felt Moriarty’s effusion. This is stronger than he is. This is something else. I’d like to know exactly what we are up against before go trying to destroy or reverse it.”

“Seems like sound reasoning.” Sherrinford lifts Moriarty/Sherlock from the floor to the bed.

“Wait a minute.” Moriarty begins to complain.

With a simple spell Mycroft renders him unconscious. “We don’t really need your words right now, do we?”

“Quite right.” Molly confirms. 

“Where does the long road end?” Sherlock fills the room with his deep baritone voice as everyone turns in surprise to look at him laying motionless on the bed.

John comes to Sherlock’s side. “Sherlock, can you hear me?”

“John, where does the long road end?” 

“Sherlock, open your eyes. Look at me.” 

“Can’t, John. I’m not in control.”

“Understood.” 

Everyone has crowded around now. Looking intently at John and a possessed Sherlock Holmes.

“What can we do to help?” Sherrinford, Mycroft and Molly stand at the ready. “This quite possibly is our fault. Mycroft and I used the seeing stone that Moriarty left for us to view Sherlock to go through him to add our powers to yours. It appears Moriarty came through with us and into Sherlock.” 

“Shite. Let me think. Why didn’t he go all the way into me? What is the long road? Do you know what he’s talking about?”

“He’s said that since he started to talk.” Mrs. Hudson smiles beatifically. “He was always a bright boy, our Sherlock.” 

“We always thought he was talking about where the Evergreen sword was. At the end of his long road.” Molly sat next to Sherlock laying her hand on shoulder. “He never wanted the responsibility of the sword. It is something he would gladly have given to another. Until Moriarty wanted it. Then he knew he had to find it first.”

“John, I want you to have the sword. You’re the better man. You should wield it.” Sherlock’s voice resonates in the large bedroom.

“I don’t know where it is, Sherlock?” 

Using his bound hands, Sherlock guides John’s hand to his heart. 

“You’re the one John. I trust to your wisdom. You can determine how to use the sword.” 

John feels a surge of power from Sherlock’s chest; like nothing he’s ever experienced before. 

“There is something happening here.” John looks startled.

“Oh GOOD.” Moriarty’s voice is stridently joyous as it comes from Sherlock’s mouth.

“No.” John shouts and blasts rare magics around the room to protect everyone in it and to ward away Moriarty’s influence. “I need all the assistance I can get right now.”

Molly, Sherrinford and Mycroft channel their power to John.

Mrs. Hudson stands close but does not include herself in the power exchange.

Now with an increased power source, John’s hand over Sherlock’s heart trembles. The surge of magic reasserts itself once again. As a blinding flash of light transmits from that touch. 

“Mine!” Moriarty snaps. “The Evergreen sword is mine.” 

Sherlock is exhibiting mild tremors. 

“John, don’t let him...” Sherlock’s voice trails off before he can finish.

There is a loud banging noise as Moriarty disengages from Sherlock. In an ethereal state, he’s not flesh and blood, just a ghost like apparition. 

“What have you got there, Johnny boy? What’s in your haaaaannnnnnd.” Moriarty’s last word is ripped from his throat. 

The apparition roils, its wraith like existence is being shredded to minuscule pieces. The pieces fall to the hard floor like burn butterfly wings. 

Everyone looks to John, but John is looking at Mrs. Hudson. She is smiling. Her clothing has taken on a radiant glow that has the warmth of love in it.

“How did you do that?” John’s still connected to Sherlock, yet his curiosity bends to this new mystery.

From the door way, The Woman enters. She carries a golden cloak. Striding to Mrs. Hudson’s side; she gently encompasses her shoulders in the fabric. Kneeling down, she bends her head to honor the elder woman.

“Mother One, at last you are freed.” 

Everyone in the room is astonished. John feels Sherlock’s hand grip his. Pressure is exerted as John feels his hand passing into Sherlock’s body. 

Watching, transfixed, John feels Sherlock’s beating heart. And then a curious thing; the sharpness of metal. Gripping the metal he pulls it gently away. 

Sherlock makes a deep exhalation of breath, as John pulls a green short sword from his body. There is a gasp of wonderment from everyone in the room.

“Are you all right my dear?” Mrs. Hudson comes closer to Sherlock’s side

Sherlock opens his eyes. Gone is the possession that had claimed him earlier. “Mrs. Hudson, so good to see you again.” 

“John of the Watson clan, the Evergreen Sword is yours to command.” Sherlock says with a quavering voice.

John examines the sword. “Where does the long road end, Mrs. Hudson?” He queries her. “How are you involved here Irene Adler? Why did you chose me?”

Tilting her head, Irene Adler answers first. “You are a mage of impeccable morals, learned in a host of magics and a truly incorruptible man. I didn’t four-see that you would become attached to Sherlock as you have; that was a fortuitous side effect. Mrs. Hudson asked me to send someone to help in this matter. The Evergreen sword was in jeopardy. Moriarty and his deceptive web of magician's were attempting to corrupt the power of the Evergreen Sword. You were the best man in more ways than one.”

Now John turns to Mrs. Hudson. She has transformed since last he looked at her. Her face has a timelessness that it hadn’t shown before. There is power emanating from every fiber of her being. 

“Men create with their heads and their hands. Woman create with their heads, hands and pudenda. Ours is the stronger magic. It always has been. Some men want to negate our powers by stating that our magics are dark and destructive.” Mrs. Hudson’s calmness radiates to everyone present.

Molly comes to Mrs. Hudson’s side. “We were blocked from creating the peace and safety that all peoples desire. Moriarty and his agents want chaos, death and destruction. The Mother One has fought to bring an end to their reign.”

“Sherlock, as a child helped me to conceal the sword. When he reached maturity, he volunteered to sheath the sword in his own body. When you pulled the sword from Sherlock, his power attached to the sword allowed me to finally obliterate Moriarty and his many agents.” Mrs. Hudson is smiling at John and Sherlock. “I am glad that Sherlock has finally found the end to his long road.”

“‘Where does the long road end?’. What is that about?” John’s still not understanding.

“The long road ends when you come home, John. When you find yourself home.” Sherlock brings John closer, wrapping his long arm around John’s waist.

“So I thought that Sherlock wasn’t a mage. You said his power attached to the sword, enhanced yours?”

“The power of love, John. That’s the strongest magic of all.” Mrs. Hudson turns slowly to exit the room as Molly and Irene accompany her.

“Wait. What of the sword?” John pulls Sherlock closer.

“The power of the Sword is yours to do with as you wish.” 

Bringing Sherlock with him he moves in front of Mrs. Hudson. Releasing Sherlock, John comes down on one knee, He lifts his left arm horizontally and lays the sword on it, hilt toward Mrs. Hudson.

“Mother One. The power of the Evergreen Sword should be yours. I am merely a soldier/mage who wants to see peace and prosperity fill the land. You can make that happen. I will be your protector, committed to your service. If you will have me.”

The Mother One takes the sword. Holding it up before her with two hands, the one sword slides into two. Sherlock comes to his knees beside John. She flips the swords deftly, placing one hilt before Sherlock and one before John.

“I accept your offer of service. Together you and Sherlock will become my Champions. Seeking out the shadows of world and righting all wrongs. Ending all mysteries.”

“We would be honored, Mother One.” Sherlock took one of the swords as he stood. John took the other sword and bowed his head in acceptance. 

The green swords shown with power.

“There will always be shadows in the world, my loves. There will always be mysteries worth the involvement in. The two of you, gentlemen, are well suited to each other and to the work I have set before you.” 

There is much to be done.” Molly spoke as she and Irene smile at the group of men as they strode with the Mother One out the door.

“Never saw that coming, My.” Sherrinford comes up to his brother Sherlock and the Mage John. He engulfs them in a brotherly embrace.

Mycroft, the more reserved of the three brothers. Merely shakes their hands. 

“Are you ready to follow me into the world?” Sherlock’s smile is more than tempting.

“I will follow you into the darkest night. You are my home. My long road has ended.”


End file.
